


One Year As A Brandybuck

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 3rd Age - The Stewards, Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2004-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-22 17:22:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3737240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little girl named Acacia makes a wish and finds what she's always wanted, only to realize she'd had it all along.  And no, this isn't a self-insertion, as I am neither neglected nor a child.  And to my understanding of Mary Sue, it is not that, either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Poor Little Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

As the sun set in the small town of Waterston, New Hampshire, the bustle of activity gave witness to the culminating Christmas season. It was that short, but cherished, time of year when people were just a bit more patient with each other. When complete strangers might greet each other on the street with a warm smile and friendly ‘hello.’ Light-string candy canes and Christmas trees adorned lamp posts and a large ‘Merry Christmas’ banner hung suspended across the street. Every house in town was decorated with lights or lawn Santas or some other mark of the holiday spirit that permeated the very air of the neighborhood. Every house, that is, but one.

Acacia Elfman, a girl whose countenance bore a far greater burden than her nine years should allow, sat on her bed, halfway to tears. Her small room was strewn with clutter from her mother’s various failed vocational endeavors, stored there when they’d run out of room in the rest of the house. There was but one decoration on her wall: a poster of the Greater Magellanic Cloud as seen from the Hubble Telescope. She had no view of the real stars from her bedroom window. The hulking great mass of a broken-down RV had been parked in front of it for as long as she could remember. So she had her poster. She would stare at it often, wishing to be in some other land, on some other planet. Anywhere she could get away from the turmoil of her own home. She would imagine what the people on those worlds would be like. They’d be jolly, gregarious, good-humored, and above all, kind.

A loud crash came from down the hall and she winced, finally breaking down into tears. Another clash came, like the unkind truth shattering this her meekest of dreams. There are no other worlds. Not for her. Even if they do exist, she’d never get there. The only world she was convinced she would ever know is this tortured, neglected, unloved existence that the screaming coming through her door endlessly reasserted. A faint sound of caroling drifted in from her open window, carried on the chill breeze. The only clue in the entire house that Christmas was almost here. There was no tree, no cards, no plans for family togetherness on Christmas Eve. Maybe she’d get a present, like the second-hand sweater she’d got last year only because she’d complained about not having a coat. Her family wasn’t poor, but her parents were so consumed by their own problems and interests that they hardly noticed she even existed.

She heard footsteps coming down the hall. A shot of adrenaline surged through her as she scrambled to turn off her light before they saw. She’d grown to be thankful for her solitude. It was the times they did notice her that she most feared. As a pregnant silence settled over the house, Acacia curled up under her covers and fell into a restless sleep.  



	2. Mall Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little girl named Acacia makes a wish and finds what she's always wanted, only to realize she'd had it all along. And no, this isn't a self-insertion, as I am neither neglected nor a child. And to my understanding of Mary Sue, it is not that, either.

The next day, her dad had once again forgotten to pick her up after school. She waited for him half an hour, then began her trek home. Her path took her near the small town shopping center. It was very cold and she still had no jacket, so she went inside to warm up.

She didn’t plan on being there more than a few minutes, but as she walked around, she noticed a group of parents and children gathered near the entrance to one of the larger stores. She felt a pang of envy as she watched the happy children with their parents. She thought how they were surely taking it all for granted. How unfair it all was to her. As she approached, she saw what they were all excited about. There was a man in a red suit sitting in a throne-like chair, holding a small boy on his lap. Santa. She recognized the man from stories she’d heard at school and the few Christmas movies she’d seen. She didn’t really believe he was real, since she’d never gotten any of those gifts he’s supposed to deliver, but there was something about the mystique of it all that intrigued her. It was a happy story, and there were far too few of those in her life.

“Would you like to meet Santa, Acacia?” a voice asked. She turned to see Mrs. Harris, her schoolmate’s mother and a sometime-helper in the classroom. She nodded. The tall woman smiled, took her hand and led her to the line. After several minutes, it was her turn. Santa lifted her into his lap and laughed heartily. She always found the ‘ho ho ho’ a bit corny, but it was so jovial that she didn’t mind. The man’s eyes really did seem to twinkle, like the poem said.

“And what would you like for Christmas, little girl?” he asked in a deep, booming voice.

Acacia looked at him with soulful brown eyes. “Anything would be nice,” she answered, trying her best not to sound melancholy, “But if I could wish for anything...” she trailed off, almost afraid to say the words aloud lest her hope dissipate in the air and be gone forever.

“Yes, child?” Santa prompted.

“I wish for another life. To live in another world where I could be happy. Where I could have people who love me and care that I’m even alive.” There was such sincerity in her words that everyone who heard them looked on her in wonder. But she saw them not. The only eyes she saw were the twinkling eyes of the bearded man looking back at her. A sadness filled those eyes now as the man tried to understand how such words could come from anyone, let alone one so young.

“Would that I could, little one,” he whispered to her, “but that is beyond my power.” She lowered her eyes, disappointment filling her even though she knew it was irrational. He adopted his Happy Santa voice again and said so all could hear, “How about a nice teddy bear?” She saw his look that implored her to play along, so she nodded. He handed her a candy cane and set her on her feet. “Merry Christmas!”

She left the mall and trudged her way home, hoping to creep in unseen. She gave her encounter no second thought, but she would soon find out that the sincerest wish of a child does not go unnoticed.  



	3. A Strange Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little girl named Acacia makes a wish and finds what she's always wanted, only to realize she'd had it all along. And no, this isn't a self-insertion, as I am neither neglected nor a child. And to my understanding of Mary Sue, it is not that, either.

When Acacia awoke the next morning, she was slow to open her eyes. Fading from her mind were dreams of summer days in Montana, memories of a childhood so long ago she wondered if they ever happened. Times when her family was happy, before all the trouble started. When she felt herself regaining consciousness, she fought to stay asleep, to keep hold of those sweet dreams. But it was to no avail. The harder she fought, the faster the laughs of her mother and her the smiling face of her father sank into the black void of the past. The warmth of the sun died away until she felt a shiver run down her side. Still dreading to open her eyes, she reached down to pull her covers over her head. When she couldn’t find them with her hand, she decided she must have kicked them off. She thought about looking for them, but that would have meant opening her eyes. So she tried to curl up into her pillow and find that kind oblivion. But there was a problem with that plan. Where was her pillow?

She reached around her head, feeling for the great, soft mass, when she discovered another odd thing. What she felt was not the smooth cotton of her sheets, but a wet, soft, almost grass-like substance. This was strange enough that she forced herself to open her eyes. She did it slowly, but before she knew it, she was seeing. But what she saw made no sense. Instead of the dull grays and blacks of her bedroom, she saw a blur of green and blue.

Instantly, she bolted upright, only to discover that the grass-like substance was, in fact, grass. She was sitting in what appeared to be the middle of a large field. There was no snow, as she had remembered, but a cool winter breeze. She got to her feet and looked across the wide landscape. She could make out slight hills, a river some ways away and the edge of a forest far off in the distance.

So stunned was she by this new environment that she spent several minutes staring agape at it. She was a bit frightened. She wondered what happened to her house, her family, her town. But at the same time, she felt an indescribable joy rising in her. And for a moment she allowed herself to think that maybe all her life before had been a terrible dream, that she was back in Montana, though she remembered no part of Montana like this. But the thought of dreams forced her into the more rational idea that what she was experiencing now was one. This depressed her greatly, but she decided if it was a dream, she’d better enjoy it while it lasted. Then she felt the dew that still wet her palms. The sharp cold of it and the smell of the field around her made her realize that she was most definitely awake, as she’d never had so vivid a dream. It’s only then that she remembered her wish.

‘Is is possible,’ she asked herself, ‘that maybe, just maybe...’ She could not bring herself to even think the words. It was too preposterous. Yet it was the only explanation she had for such a miracle. Unless, of course, her parents had driven her out somewhere and dropped her in a field, but she doubted they paid enough attention to her to undertake such an outing.

Being distracted by her thoughts, she failed to notice a young boy approach. “Who are you?” he asked. She spun around to face him. He looked about her age, with long, fair, curly locks. She looked at him warily.

After a moment to asses whether he might be dangerous, which she decided he probably wasn’t, she answered, “Acacia.”

“Hullo, then,” the boy smiled. “Haven’t seen you around before.”

Acacia looked around, then back at him. “Where is here exactly?”

“What?” he asked, clearly shocked and on the verge of laughter at such an obviously absurd question. “Buckland is a large enough area I expect one should know when they’ve entered it.”

She would have noted that she didn’t recognize the name, but she was too enthralled with this boy’s ears. They were pointed, but not dainty. They looked like the ears of Santa’s elfs at the mall. “What are you?” she asked in a tone that did little to hide her wonder.

The boy didn’t quite get her meaning, as he answered, almost incredulously, “I’m a Brandybuck!”

Acacia was oblivious to his attitude, being too preoccupied with her own. The word meant nothing to her. She made another request for information. “Is that some kind of elf?”

The boy laughed in her face. “An elf? Are you mad? If that’s a joke, it’s not a very good one.” He continued laughing hysterically as she grew quite annoyed with him.

“I’m serious!” she yelled, trying to get some respect. “You’re obviously some kind of freak with your big, pointy ears,” she glanced down, “and your huge, hairy feet!”

He stopped laughing. “I beg your pardon, but my ears are no more pointy nor my feet more hairy than your own.”

Acacia was now thoroughly confused. She didn’t want to look down, really she didn’t, but her head was just too quick for her to stop it. Before she knew it, she was staring at another pair of the big, fur-covered feet. Her own. She looked up at him with an expression of pure horror and confusion. Tentatively, she brought her fingers to her ear. It felt just like the boy’s looked. The strange boy looked at her with panic as her wide eyes shut and she collapsed to the ground, unconscious.  



	4. Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little girl named Acacia makes a wish and finds what she's always wanted, only to realize she'd had it all along. And no, this isn't a self-insertion, as I am neither neglected nor a child. And to my understanding of Mary Sue, it is not that, either.

The next thing she knew, she was waking up. She wasn’t sure at what point she’d fallen asleep, but she knew the familiar feeling of slipping out of unconsciousness. She was not yet awake enough to open her eyes when she felt the soft cushion of a bed beneath her and a pillow under her head. A wave of relief flowed over her at the realization that her strange elf experience had all been a dream. She’d even be able to stand being around her parents as long as she was back in the real world.

Finally, she was able to open her eyes. She saw before her a high wooden ceiling. For a moment she thought this odd, remembering no such ceiling in her bedroom. Suddenly, she jerked awake.

She found herself sitting on what was indeed a bed, but in a very strange room. It was all very earthy, everything wood and dirt and stone. She looked out a round window onto a vast, green field. Small animals flitted across it, birds sung happy songs in the trees, children were walking with their parents. She screamed.

The same small boy from what she thought was her dream ran into the room. He looked at her and a wide grin spread across his face. He darted out of the room, yelling, “Oi! Mum! She’s awake!” Acacia just stared at the empty doorway in shock.

Moments later, a woman ran into the room. She looked about the same age as her own mom, only much more...the only word Acacia could think of to describe her was ‘motherly.’ The woman bustled across the room to her bed, smiling.

“Lie still, child,” the woman said, “before you faint again.” She could see the distress on the young girl’s face. She raised the pillows up some and gently pushed Acacia back so she was leaning against them. “There’s no need for fear. You are quite safe.”

Somehow Acacia believed her. She took a deep breath and calmed herself enough to ask a question: “Where am I?”

The woman smiled again. “You are in Brandy Hall, home of the Brandybucks, and of my husband, the Master of Buckland.”

That was a little more than Acacia was expecting, yet still not quite answering her question. “Where is that?” she asked.

The woman looked surprised. “Why, it’s in the East Farthing.” She saw no recognition on Acacia’s face. “In the Shire?” she added hesitantly. When this got no response, her face grew very grave. “Where are you from, dear?”

“Waterston, New Hampshire,” Acacia replied, growing worried by the woman’s look.

“I know of no such place,” said the woman, “but my knowledge of the lands beyond our borders is admittedly quite limited. How did you get here?”

“I don’t know,” Acacia told her. “I just went to sleep one night, then woke up here.”

The woman looked very puzzled by this. She thought about it for a minute, then smiled. “Well, however you got here, you’re most welcome. We’ll do what we can to help you find your way home, but until then, you shall stay here with us.”

Acacia smiled for the first time that day. She had a feeling they’d never find her home, but that didn’t bother her at all. ‘Looks like Santa knows his stuff,’ she thought absently.

“So, then, what is your name, lass?” the woman asked.

“Acacia,” she replied.

“That’s a strange name,” the woman said, “What does it mean?”

“It’s a type of tree, I think,” said Acacia.

The woman smiled. “Well, then, it’s a right fine name for a hobbit lass.”

Acacia frowned. “What’s a hobbit?” she asked.

The woman looked as if she’d just asked “what’s a bird?” “You are, dear,” she said slowly, now worried that there was something wrong with the girl, “and I am, and we all are. It’s our race.”

Acacia’s eyes looked like dinner plates. “I’m an American,” she said, obviously confused as to what the word ‘race’ meant.

“Well, you certainly look like a hobbit,” said the woman. “But perhaps you call yourselves something different where you come from.” She suddenly grew excited. “Maybe American’s are another branch of hobbit that somehow got separated from the others long ago. Perhaps we have kin far beyond the Shire. Tell me, what do you know of your people’s past?”

Acacia lowered her eyes. She’d never been very good at history. “Not much. I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right, dear,” the woman told her gently, “But you can at least tell me your family’s name.”

The thought of her parents let a touch of anger seep into her voice, but the woman seemed not to notice. “Elfman.”

The woman once again appeared amazed. “That is a most unusual name for a hobbit,” she said, “Or for anyone, I would think. Imagine, naming oneself after two alien races. Elf-man.” She tried out the name on her tongue, apparently deciding it didn’t fit. “Most unusual. But perhaps it means that your people live alongside Elves and Men. Now that is a most fascinating possibility. I would dearly wish to learn more about your people, anything that you do know.”

Acacia nodded, now thoroughly confused. Right then she decided to just go with it. She accepted that she must be in some new world (since that is what she wished for, after all), and that in the process she’d been transformed into whatever these people were. She was just glad it wasn’t anything too unusual. Big, hairy feet and pointy ears she could deal with (she didn’t know about the shortness), but she was happy she didn’t have a tail or fins or something. She was sure she couldn’t tell these people too much about her world, not that she wanted to. She thought that she would probably like it here with...what was her name, anyway?

“Excuse me, ma’am,” she said, trying to remember her manners if she was going to be with these people for a while, “but what is your name?”

The woman put her hand to her mouth. “Oh! How rude of me! In all this I haven’t even given you my name. Well, you may have it now, then. My name is Esmerelda.”

Acacia smiled at her. “That’s a pretty name.”

“Why, thank you. What was your mother’s name?” Esmerelda asked.

Acacia looked away. “It’s...it was Kathryn. But she died when I was a baby,” she lied. She thought that if she was going to be spending the rest of her life here, she didn’t want any mention of her bad parents hanging over her head, or for her new family to waste any time looking for them. “She and my dad died in an accident. I don’t have any other family. I’ve been on my own since.”

Esmerelda was dumbstruck. “That’s terrible! I am so sorry, lass. Well, that settles it. You are now part of our family. From now on, I want you to call me Mum.”

Acacia couldn’t contain her smile. She threw her arms around her new ‘mum’ before the woman knew what hit her. Esmerelda returned the hug, stroking the girl’s back gently. “It’s all right, Acacia,” she told her, “You’re not alone any more.”

Just then the strange boy burst into the room. “Mum! Mum! Hurry! The party’s starting!”

Esmerelda shushed her son. “Meriadoc, this is Acacia, your new sister.”  



	5. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little girl named Acacia makes a wish and finds what she's always wanted, only to realize she'd had it all along. And no, this isn't a self-insertion, as I am neither neglected nor a child. And to my understanding of Mary Sue, it is not that, either.

The boy’s eyes grew wide. It seemed shock was a common ailment today. “That’s fantastic!” he cried. “I’ve never had a sister before. And just in time, too.” He ran to her, dragging her out of bed.

Acacia couldn’t help but smile. “I’ve never had a brother before, either,” she told him. “Where are we going, Meria...mer...” she tried to remember the strange name of the boy pulling her through the door and down the hall.

“Just Merry,” he said, “and we’re going to the party. This’ll be great.” He said the last part more to himself than to her.

“What party?” she asked him. She barely had time to register the strange halls of this large, earthy building.

He looked at her with a grin, “Why, Frodo’s party.”

“Who’s Frodo?”

“He’s my cousin,” answered Merry. “Well, actually my first cousin once removed...I think. I’m still trying to remember how all my relatives are related to me. Anyway, he’s leaving tonight to go live in Hobbiton with his uncle...or rather, second cousin once removed. So it’s lucky you’re here or I’d have no one left to play with.”

As Acacia tried to think of an answer to all this, they came to a large hall. It was definitely a party. She could see many tables filled with food and people. Music was being played somewhere, but what struck her most were the smells of all the kinds of food. She suddenly realized that she hadn’t eaten in what seemed like a day. She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep. She was ready to get in there and celebrate this Frodo guy’s leaving until her stomach would hold no more celebration.

She headed straight for the nearest table, but before she got there, Merry grabbed her arm and pulled her over to another. Unfortunately, it wasn’t to eat. She found herself staring at a pair of the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. They belonged to a rather startled-looking young man.

Merry tugged the guy’s shirt. “Frodo! Frodo! Look! This is Acacia. She’s my new sister.” Merry practically jumped up and down with excitement, though Acacia wasn’t quite sure why.

‘So, this is Frodo,’ she thought, ‘...Neat.’

Frodo seemed to have recovered from the surprise of having a girl shoved nearly into his lap. “Have you replaced me so quickly, Merry?” he asked the twitchy hobbit.

Merry’s eyes widened in panic. “No! No, I mean, no one could replace you, Frodo. She’s just...well, you’re the one that’s leaving me here to go off with your other family. I just wanted someone to replace—no, not replace! I mean—”

Frodo just laughed as he watched Merry dig himself deeper. He turned to Acacia and smiled. She was surprised at how genuine it was. She could see why Merry seemed to love him so. “It’s nice to meet you,” he told her. He looked to the babbling Merry, then back to her. “Take care of him, will you? He’s a trouble-maker, that one. And when he can’t make it, he gets someone else to.”

She just nodded dumbly, not quite sure how to respond to that. It was all happening so quickly. She tried to think of something to say. Then she caught a whiff of something on the table and all hope was lost. She scrambled onto the bench and started scarfing down food like there was no tomorrow.  



	6. Veggie-Lifting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little girl named Acacia makes a wish and finds what she's always wanted, only to realize she'd had it all along. And no, this isn't a self-insertion, as I am neither neglected nor a child. And to my understanding of Mary Sue, it is not that, either.

“Acacia Brandybuck, your parents will hear about this!”

Acacia could hear dogs barking and quick rustling of the corn behind her.

“Quick, Acey! Run!” Merry was several yards ahead of her, but had stopped to look back. He stretched out an arm to pull her along, dropping several carrots in the process. He still had an armload of vegetables, so he barely noticed.

The young girl clutched the edge of her skirt with both hands. It was filled with vegetables, which somehow managed to stay in as she ran. She wasn’t worried about modesty, since she knew to always wear pants under her skirt whenever they went out veggie-lifting.

“He saw me, Merry!” she said when she caught up with him.

He shoved her forward. “I know he did. Run!”

They careened through the field, the sounds of their pursuers ever gaining. Panic grew on Acacia’s face.

“Merry, I think we’re lost!” she said in what she hoped wasn’t too loud a voice, “And Farmer Maggot’s almost on us!”

Merry just flashed her a cocky smile, or would have if he hadn’t been smacked across the face by the corn whenever he looked anywhere but forward. “Don’t worry. I know just where we are. We’ll reach the fence any sec—ahhhhh!”

Acacia saw him disappear right in front of her. She had but a split second to wonder where he’d gone before she found herself tumbling down the side of a hill. She rolled for several seconds, veggies flying everywhere, before she reached the bottom.

“Oomph!” She landed hard on something a bit softer than she was expecting. She looked over to see a pair of feet sticking up in the air. A look to the other side revealed a mop of blond hair. Suddenly she realized she was sitting on Merry’s back and jumped up. “Sorry!”

He just groaned. “I think you’ve broken my back, you great oliphaunt!” He rolled over to look up at her. He tried to appear injured, but didn’t pull it off well.

Her apologetic look disappeared and she kicked him in the side. “Ha! I’m smaller than you! Besides, I’m not the one who led us off the side of a cliff!”

He sat up, brushing himself off. “It was a slight embankment,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. He looked back up at it, adding to himself, “that I don’t remember being there before. I should really make a note of that.”

Acacia watched as a couple large melons rolled down the hill. She scrambled to get them. “The veggies!” She spotted some carrots and cabbages lying around and gathered them, as well. Merry joined her in collecting all the vegetables they could salvage from their fall. They ended up with a rather large pile.

“Look at that,” he said, “Really, Acey, I’ve never known any boys so good at veggie-lifting as you. Not even Frodo. I suppose there are some good things about being a girl.” He gave her skirt a tug as he said this. She punched him in the arm and smiled when he winced in pain. He’d taken to calling her Acey several months ago, soon after the party. She rather liked it, really. She’d never had any nicknames before. Well, none that bear repeating, anyway.

Loud barking interrupted their ‘discussion.’ They looked up the hill to see the dogs still hot on their tail.

Merry scrambled for the vegetables. “Quick, Acey, lift up your skirt!” She raised an eyebrow at him. He realized what he’d just said and blushed. “I just meant, you know, for the vegetables...so we can...just...oh, you know what I mean,” he stammered, annoyed that she’d gotten him embarrassed.

She smiled and started loading the loot into her giant skirt bundle. They took off down the path.

The dogs reached the bottom of the hill seconds later. They started chasing the hobbits, but Acacia turned around and nailed one in the head with a potato, though she dropped a couple cabbages in the process. The dog was dazed enough to stop in its tracks. Merry grabbed another potato and chucked it at the second dog. He didn’t even need to make sure it hit the mark. As soon as he threw it he grabbed Acacia’s arm and ran.  



	7. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little girl named Acacia makes a wish and finds what she's always wanted, only to realize she'd had it all along. And no, this isn't a self-insertion, as I am neither neglected nor a child. And to my understanding of Mary Sue, it is not that, either.

For the next several months, things went along peacefully. Well, as peacefully as they can go with two mischievous little hobbits running around. Acacia settled well into her life in Buckland. Saradoc and Esmerelda took a great liking to their adopted daughter and often said how they wished she would rub off on Merry a bit, rather than the other way around. But she did, really. Everyone thought that Acacia’s coming had been a great blessing. Merry was far better off now than he would have been, left to his own devices after Frodo’s departure. Somehow, he even picked up some of her good manners, when he felt like using them.

They never could find out where she was from, though. Whenever they questioned her about her past or her home, she’d always respond, “The past is the past. This is my home.” They didn’t want to push her, so they usually let her be. “Let her have her secrets,” Esmerelda had said once, “She lets us have ours.” In fact, Acacia never asked more about this world and its people than the other hobbits wanted to say, which wasn’t much, outside of the Shire. She was fine with that. It didn’t matter to her what the rest of the world was like or how she’d gotten there. She was just glad she was there. In fact, she tended to think that if she knew too much about this world, it might suddenly disappear in a puff of smoke and send her back to her other life.

But as time went on, she began to think that might not be such a terrible thing.

Merry found her one day in late November sitting on the bank of the Brandywine River. He snuck up behind her, intent on pouncing on her and maybe even getting her wet. But, he stopped when he saw the way she was hunched over, hugging her knees and drawing in the dirt with a rock. Instead, he just sat beside her silently.

When she didn’t turn to look at him, he asked, “Are you all right, Acey?”

She let out a light sigh that would have been adorable if it hadn’t been so sad. “It’s almost Thanksgiving, you know.”

He looked confused. “What?”

She turned to him, her eyes large and glistening with unshed tears. “A holiday where I come from.” She looked out at the river, lost in memory. “When I was little, we’d always go to visit my grandparents on their ranch. Grandma would make a great big meal with mashed potatoes and gravy and cranberry sauce and even the special stuffing I like with the corn in it.”

Merry was staring off into the distance, grinning. “Mmmm...” he murmured. When he saw her face again, he snapped out of it.

She looked into his eyes and he could see the great sadness in them. “In these past few years, it’s the only time I remember my family being really happy.”

He finally understood her grief. “Your other family,” he observed.

She nodded. They sat in silence for a long time. Merry couldn’t figure out what to say that would cheer her up. Finally, she asked him, “Merry, do you think I’ll ever see them again?”

He put his arm around her shoulders. “I don’t know, Acey. But even if you don’t, you know you’ll always have a family here, and we’d be very sad to see you go.” She smiled at him and he wrapped his other arm around her. She clung to him for several seconds, savoring the comforting embrace.

But it soon became too much for the young hobbit-lad, as he seemed to reach his mushy limit for the week. An evil grin spread across his face. He leaned back, sending her off balance and falling on top of him. Before she could get there, though, he tucked his feet under him and as he rolled onto his back, he pressed his feet into her stomach and launched her back over his head, using both of their momentums against her. She went flying across the riverbank, screaming as she went. She landed a dozen feet away on her back. When she scrambled up, her look of absolute astonishment shifted to playful anger as she saw Merry sitting on the ground, laughing his butt off. A smile flashed across her features, then it was back to scowling.

“Grrrraaahh!” she yelled as she rushed toward him like an angry warg. His laughter turned into girly screaming, but by then it was too late.  



	8. Merry and Berry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little girl named Acacia makes a wish and finds what she's always wanted, only to realize she'd had it all along. And no, this isn't a self-insertion, as I am neither neglected nor a child. And to my understanding of Mary Sue, it is not that, either.

It was a crisp mid-December day when Merry and Acacia were out in the fields, doing absolutely nothing. Of course, that was only because they hadn’t been able to find any trouble to get into yet. Acacia was quite content to sit in the grass against a tree, drawing on a piece of paper she’d stuffed in her pocket for just such an occasion, while Merry hit another tree with a stick. He seemed to be pretending he was some kind of great warrior, warding off his evil foe. It just made Acacia laugh.

“Merry, put that stick down before you hurt yourself.” But just as she said that, he inadvertently poked himself in the foot with it. As he hopped on one foot, holding onto the other one to sooth the pain, Acacia laughed at him again. “You’re just lucky it wasn’t very sharp. That would be a mighty big splinter, even in such an enormous foot. I just hope, for your sake, you never get hold of a sword.”

Merry stopped hopping and looked at her indignantly. “I’ll have you know that I’m going to be a great hero one day,” he said confidently, puffing out his chest a little.

She chuckled. “What makes you think you’ll ever even get to leave the Shire?”

“Nothing,” he answered, “but I will. I’ll go off on a great adventure, like old Bilbo, only greater. And I’ll learn to swordfight and I’ll meet lots of strange people and I’ll slay evil monsters and save the day.”

She laughed again. Her hand began to draw doodles of Merry in a suit of armor that’s way too big for him, holding up a sword triumphantly over some huge dragon.

“And do you know what they’ll call me?” he asked her. She looked up, not bothering to respond. “Meriadoc the Magnificent, that’s what. And then I’ll come back and get married and have a dozen kids.”

She couldn’t contain herself any longer. “Hah! Sounds more like Merry the Macho.”

He scowled. “What’s that mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said as she tried to suppress her laughter, “go on.”

He cleared his throat loudly. “As I was saying...well, no, I guess I’m done.”

“So how do you know all this, Your Magnificence?” she asked sarcastically.

“I just have a feeling,” he answered, “Why? Don’t you know what you’ll do when you grow up?”

She gazed off into the distance, actually appearing to think about this. “No,” she finally answered, “I have no feeling about my future. Really, I’ve never thought about it.”

Before she could ponder it much more, they saw someone running toward them. It was Berilac, Merry’s slightly older cousin on his father’s side. They didn’t usually get along too well. It’s not that they disliked each other, but Acacia suspected that Merry just had too much mischievous energy for him.

“What is it, Berry?” Merry asked him, looking a little annoyed.

‘Hmm...Merry and Berry?’ Acacia thought, ‘Maybe that’s the reason they never hang out.’

Berry finally reached them, panting just a little too much. He was a bit overweight, even for a hobbit. “Your mum told me to come get you. Your aunt and uncle are arriving soon from Tuckborough. They’re bringing the girls, and Aunt Esme says another one, too.”

Merry smiled broadly. “Another cousin? Why didn’t I hear about this before? Well, let’s go!” He took off toward Brandy Hall, followed by Acacia as soon as she could stuff the paper back in her pocket. Berry took a few steps to follow them, but started wheezing, so he just stopped, waved his hand at them dismissively, and plopped down against the tree.  



	9. Relations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little girl named Acacia makes a wish and finds what she's always wanted, only to realize she'd had it all along. And no, this isn't a self-insertion, as I am neither neglected nor a child. And to my understanding of Mary Sue, it is not that, either.

Merry barreled into the house, nearly knocking his mother over in his excitement. “Slow down, Merry. What’s your hurry?” She grabbed her son to physically calm him down, but he squirmed out of her grasp.

“Are they here yet?” he asked quickly.

“Who, son?”

He looked up as if to chastise her for wasting his time. “You know who.”

She smiled, winking at Acacia as she finally came through the door. “Do you know who he means, Acey?”

Acacia smiled. “I think he means Uncle Paladin’s family,” she said innocently.

“Now how did you hear they were coming?” Esmerelda teased.

Merry couldn’t stand it any longer. “Mum!” he whined.

She laughed. “Yes, yes, they’re in the Great Room.”

Merry bolted toward said room, Acacia behind him, trying to keep up. As he turned the last corner into the room, he slammed into someone, toppling them both to the ground. He scrambled to his feet, helping his older cousin up.

“Sorry, Pearl,” he told her hastily. “I hear you have a new sister. Where is she?”

The hobbit-lass laughed. “I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed,” she told him. His face dropped. She waited a moment to let the disappointment hit before adding, “It’s a brother.”

Merry grinned ecstatically. “A boy! That’s even better!” She looked insulted, as did Acacia, who’d caught up with him in time to hear the last bit of the conversation. Merry didn’t seem to notice their expressions. “Where is he?” he demanded. Pearl pointed to another part of the room, where his aunt Eglantine sat, already surrounded by other female relatives.

He ran to her, or rather to the baby in her arms. His momentum would have sent him into her lap had he not been suddenly pulled back by Acacia grabbing his collar. This gave him enough time to remember his manners.

“Good afternoon, Aunt Eglan,” he said, forcing himself to look at her instead of the baby.

She smiled. “Hello, Merry, Acacia.” She was a bit kinder than Esmerelda, as she didn’t try to put off the poor boy anymore. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” She turned the infant to face him. Merry’s mouth fell open with wonder at the little hobbit before him. “This is your new cousin, Peregrin, but you can call him Pippin.” She set him gently in Merry’s arms.

Acacia looked over his shoulder at Pippin. “Aww...he’s so cute,” she cooed.

A wicked grin spread across Merry’s face. “Yeeees...cuuuute.”

Acacia cocked an eyebrow at him. She could only imagine what evil thoughts were filling her brother’s head, ways to corrupt the tiny life he held. She decided it was time to intervene. “Can I hold him, Aunt Eglan?”

The hobbit woman smiled kindly. “Of course you can, Acey.”

Without waiting for further prompting, Acacia liberated Pippin from Merry’s clutches. As she looked down at the baby, with his adorably pointed ears, feet that already looked overly large, and perfectly groomed mass of hair, a strange feeling overcame her. She saw the adoration in the eyes of those around her as they watched the child, yet all she could feel was the sense of awe that comes from such close proximity to any infant. She felt no kinship to the child. He just looked so...alien. And suddenly, she wished for home, for her own family. ‘How strange,’ she thought, ‘that now, surrounded by so many people and so much love, I’ve never felt so lonely.’  



	10. A Tough Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little girl named Acacia makes a wish and finds what she's always wanted, only to realize she'd had it all along. And no, this isn't a self-insertion, as I am neither neglected nor a child. And to my understanding of Mary Sue, it is not that, either.

Acacia sat alone in her room, staring out at the field and trees. It was a week later, nearing the end of Foreyule, and of the year 1390 by Shire Reckoning. She wasn’t sure what day it would be in her world, but she was certain it was around Christmas again. ‘My world,’ she thought, ‘So I have disowned this land already.’ She felt a pang of shame as she realized this. It didn’t seem right, after all these people, her adopted family, had done for her. They took her in when no one wanted her, loved her when no one else would, and now she was ready to abandon them. ‘And for what?’

A knock on the door stopped her from answering that question. “Come in,” she said softly.

Merry poked his head in. “What’s wrong?” he asked, “You’ve been in here all day.”

She stared at the floor, not wanting to meet his gaze. “Merry, I think I want to go back.”

He shut the door and came inside. His face was grave. Somehow, he knew this wasn’t the time for joking. “What do you mean? Go back where?”

“Home,” she whispered, really not wanting to have this conversation, but knowing it was inevitable.

He took a seat beside her on her bed. He looked confused. “You are home,” he told her.

‘Poor Merry,’ she thought, ‘He still doesn’t get it.’ “I mean my other home, in New Hampshire,” she said.

A look of shock and dismay fell over his face. “Why?” was all he could get out.

“Because it’s where I belong.”

He jumped up, anger and panic suddenly igniting inside him. “You belong here, Acey! This is your home! Here, with us. With me.”

She grabbed his hand. She hadn’t known how greatly he cared for her until that moment. But it was too late. Her mind was made up.

“Merry, you have a wonderful family, and I’ve loved being a part of it, but it’s your family. Not mine.”

He fell to his knees and looked up at her. “I thought it was.”

Acacia felt tears welling in her eyes. “So did I, Merry. But I finally realized that my real family’s back in America, where I should be.”

“I thought your parents were dead,” he said, confusion once again coloring his face.

She looked away. “I lied.” She didn’t see his shock. “My parents are alive,” she continued, “I just said they were dead so no one would try to find them and send me back. I thought they were terrible and didn’t love me. I was happy to get away from them.”

He squeezed her hand. His voice sounded almost pleading. “Then why do you want to go back?”

She forced herself to look at him. She almost pulled away from the pain she saw in his eyes, but she made herself look. “Because I realized that even if they’re not the best parents in the world, they’re still my parents. And I love them.”

They were both silent for what seemed like ages. Merry stared at the bed in front of him. Finally, she heard his soft voice float up to her. “Do you not like us any more, Acey?”

She broke down in tears and threw her arms around his neck, dropping to her knees on the floor in front of him. “No, Merry! I do! I love you all so dearly. But seeing you here, with your family, it just reminds me of how far away I am from mine. And I know it sounds crazy, but I miss them.”

After a while longer, he took her shoulders and pushed her away, holding her at arms length. The sorrow in his face was replaced by resolve, though his eyes were still a bit red. “Is this really what you want?” he asked her. She nodded. “Then I’ll help you. How do you get there?”

She looked out the window, more to avoid his reaction than to actually try to see her land. “I don’t know.”

He helped her to her feet and they sat on her bed. His eyes were kind now, and understanding. “Then first thing tomorrow, I’ll help you find your way home.”

She couldn’t find a response to this, but she could hardly have spoken one if she tried. So, she hugged him again.

He smiled sadly. “Even if I have to tramp all over Middle-Earth to do it.”  



	11. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little girl named Acacia makes a wish and finds what she's always wanted, only to realize she'd had it all along. And no, this isn't a self-insertion, as I am neither neglected nor a child. And to my understanding of Mary Sue, it is not that, either.

Merry refused to leave her, even when night fell. At bedtime, Esmerelda looked in to check on her. What she found was Acacia snuggled down in the blankets and Merry curled up at the foot of her bed, like a dog. He was clutching Acacia’s hand as if he was afraid if he let go she would disappear. Esmerelda just smiled and shut the door gently.

Acacia heard the soft sound and opened her eyes. She looked down at Merry and smiled wistfully. A storm of longing and pain raged in her heart. “I do love it here,” she whispered quietly enough not to wake him, “and I love you, Merry, but I miss my parents. I wish I was home. If only I knew how to get there.”

It took her a long time to get back to sleep. Her mind was filled with memories of both homes and both families. She was thinking it over one last time, but in the end she came to the same conclusion as before. Then, when he mind was settled, she was finally able to rest.

***

“Acacia!” Acacia awoke with a start. Someone pulled her out of bed into one of the strongest embraces she’d ever felt. Seconds later, another person joined the hug. When they finally released her, she realized who they were.

It was her parents. Her real ones. And they were crying.

“How did you get back? Where were you? We’ve missed you so much!” They bombarded her with more questions and exclamations than she could respond to. When it sunk in where she was, back in her own bedroom in New Hampshire, she threw herself into another hug and started crying herself.

“I don’t know,” she said through the tears, “I was gone, but now I’m back. I missed you.”

“We thought you’d been kidnapped. We thought you were dead,” her mother was telling her while stroking her hair and face, making sure she was real. “You’ve been gone for a year. We’d given up hope of ever finding you again and now here you are as if you’ve never left.”

Acacia looked at her, surprised at this show of emotion. “You missed me?” she asked, “I mean, you really missed me?”

Her parents looked hurt by this remark. “Of course we did. You’re our daughter. We love you.”

She hugged them again. She knew she’d made the right choice, however her wish had come true.

***

When Merry woke up, the first thing he saw was the light streaming through the window on to the floor. He gazed at it for several seconds, trying to figure out why it didn’t look quite right. Suddenly, he remembered everything.

His head spun around to the bed. She was gone. His stomach jumped into his throat. He was through the door almost before his feet hit the floor.

“Acey!” he yelled, running through Brandy Hall like a spooked horse. His mother caught him as he zoomed past.

“Slow down. What’s wrong?” she asked him, obviously concerned by his behavior.

“Acey! Where is she?” he demanded.

Esmerelda shook her head. “I haven’t seen her. Last I knew she was still in her room. I thought you two had left together when I wasn’t looking.”

Merry looked like he’d been punched in the gut. His eyes glazed over. “She’s gone,” he whispered.

Esmerelda looked at her son, her eyes suddenly full of worry. “Gone where?”

He looked up at her, a sad peace washing over his face. “Back to her home. Back where she belongs.”

She tried to get more out of him, but he just wandered off in a daze. She ran to tell her husband.

Merry wandered the halls, not quite sure how to react, until he found himself near the nursery. It was almost always empty now, but he heard movement inside, so he went in.

He made his way to the crib, where he found Pippin asleep. He gazed down at his little cousin. So tiny now, but soon, he knew, he would be big enough to talk and walk. He stared for a long time at the little body. He knew Acacia was right. Family was the most important thing on Arda. As a hobbit, he should have known this already, but he needed a stranger to come into his life and remind him. Now, she had her family again, and he had his.

Slowly, he allowed a smile to make its way across his face.  



	12. Epilogue: Christmas Merry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little girl named Acacia makes a wish and finds what she's always wanted, only to realize she'd had it all along. And no, this isn't a self-insertion, as I am neither neglected nor a child. And to my understanding of Mary Sue, it is not that, either.

“Slow down, Willow!” Acacia called out down the mall. The young girl didn’t respond, but continued racing toward the crowd. Acacia just picked up her speed as much as she could and huffed along after her.

When she reached the crowd, she finally caught up to the fair-haired girl. She looked down and took her hand. “What’s your hurry, little one?” she asked.

The girl called Willow looked up at her. “It’s Santa, Grandma. Santa’s here.”

Acacia looked out over the heads of the crowd. “So he is,” she told the girl, “but you shouldn’t have run away like that. You scared me.”

Willow harrumphed. “Well, at least one of us is getting some excitement.”

Acacia stroked the child’s golden locks. “Always so anxious to get out and do something.” She smiled. “You remind me of a little boy I once knew.”

The girl wasn’t paying much attention. “I just wish there was something to do around here,” she nearly whined.

“Maybe that’s something you can ask Santa for,” Acacia suggested.

“Grandma,” Willow scolded, “Santa only does toys. He can’t get me out of this town.”

Acacia smiled at her again. “That may be, child, but it never hurts to ask.” Willow thought about this and Acacia resigned herself to simply waiting in line. But something about this whole situation seemed very familiar to her.

Forty-four years had passed since her one great adventure, and her life had never been the same. The trauma of her disappearance was the forge in which her family had renewed its strength. Her parents, like herself, had realized what was really important in life. They’d put aside their squabbling and became the family the once were, before all the pressures of jobs and the new town had turned them into mindless, angry robots.

She’d grown up, gone to college, and gotten married. She had kids and grandkids. It was almost time for her to retire. But now, at this moment, she felt her nine-year-old self coming back to her, and she wondered.

‘Whatever happened to Merry?’ she thought, ‘I hope he didn’t forget about me.’

***

That night, with her son, Rowan, and his family already gone to bed, she sat by the Christmas tree, staring past the hung stockings to the glowing fire that flickered in the hearth. Her thoughts strayed to another such night, almost a lifetime ago, when her deepest wish had come true.

“I wonder what Merry’s doing now,” she muttered, allowing her thoughts to be heard by any who would heed them, “I wish I could see him, just once more, to know that he’s all right.”

So she waited, half expecting the hobbit to just pop into the room. But nothing happened. As the fire burned on, she felt herself drifting off to sleep.

She woke to a sound she couldn’t remember hearing. She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, but the fire had died down to a few dim embers. Beside her, the Christmas tree rustled. She jumped, but calmed down when she saw a small head full of curls hiding behind it.

“Maple, dear, go back to bed,” she mumbled, assuming her eldest grandson had snuck in, “No opening presents until the morning.”

The owner of the curls whipped around at the sound of her voice, but got tangled in the tree and lights. He flailed around for a while before finally stumbling out and landing in a heap on the floor.

She got up and pulled him to his feet, ready to scold him for nearly knocking the tree down. He looked up at her. Her eyes bulged in shock. So did his. He opened his mouth to scream, but, thinking quickly, she covered it with her hand. She didn’t want to wake her family.

He kicked her furiously and backed against the wall. His hand went to his side, but found nothing. He looked at her angrily. “Who are you? Where am I?” he demanded.

“Ow!” she yelled, grabbing her shin, then covered her own mouth, hoping no one heard that outburst. Startled as she was, she gazed in astonishment at the small person in front of her.

He was dressed in a pair of flannel pajamas with little X-Wings on them. A child’s clothing, clearly not his. She looked at his face and noticed something strikingly familiar. She saw his feet and ears and her suspicions were confirmed.

Her shocked whisper pierced the sudden tense stillness of the room. “Merry?”

His jaw dropped. It was him, all right. He looked much older than when she last saw him, though not as old as she was. She saw maturity in his eyes, experience, and ferocity.

“You know me?” he asked. His face grew stern again. “Declare yourself! Who dares abduct the Master of Buckland, a soldier of Rohan and friend to the King?” Anyone less involved in this little drama would have found the scene quite humorous: a great warrior hobbit boldly standing there, making demands, while dressed in baby blue Star Wars jammies.

Acacia would have smothered him in a hug, had she not been worried of what he would do. “Merry,” she said, holding her hands out in a gesture of surrender, “it’s me. Acacia.”

His grimace faltered. “You cannot be her. You’re a woman, not a hobbit.”

“I told you I wasn’t a hobbit, but you guys never believed me,” she insisted. “But, look. It really is me.”

He started to retort, but stopped. Looking into her eyes, recognition grew on his face. When he spoke, his voice was soft and uncertain. “Acey?”

She smiled broadly. “Yes! Yes, it’s me.”

He grinned wildly. There was the face of the brother she remembered. “It is you!” He ran to her. She kneeled down as he flew into her arms. After a big hug, he pushed himself back. “How?”

“I don’t know,” she told him, tears of happiness running down her face. “I guess I just...wished it and then you showed up.”

That wasn’t much of an answer, but he didn’t care. He stood back and had a good look at her. “You’re so big.”

She laughed. “You’re so small.”

He stood up straight. “All hobbits are small. Even you...used to be. But Pippin and I are the tallest in the Shire, now or ever, thanks to the Ents.”

Acacia’s wrinkled brow furrowed. “Ents?”

“Tree people,” Merry answered, as if that was enough.

“Well, that,” said Acacia, “combined with your little self-introduction, convinces me that I must have missed something really fun. Master of Buckland, already? Time does fly. And what’s Rohan? What king? And who are these tree people? This sounds like an interesting story.”

“Oh, it’s much more than a story, Acey,” he said, “It’s many, many stories, horrible and wonderful.”

She sat in her chair again, offering him a seat nearby. “Then I insist you tell me.”

And so Merry launched into the tale of his great adventure and soon they were laughing and getting along as if they’d never been apart.

***

All the while, in a far-off land called Valinor, a bearded old man clothed all in red sat, watching them through a certain magic mirror. A warm smile covered his face, until he heard a voice behind him.

“Nikola, it is not prudent for a wizard to spy incessantly on others, even those he is trying to help, especially when they do not even know he exists.”

The red wizard spun to face him. “But she does, Gandalf,” he explained, “She has always believed.”

The white wizard did not look convinced. “Eru gave you your powers to help people, and you have so far done a fine job, but you are bordering on voyeurism.”

“But I have to make sure they’re all right,” Nikola protested.

Gandalf shushed him. “They will be fine. Just give them a few hours in peace.”

Nikola nodded and Gandalf left, but the red wizard was not quite done. He used the mirror to scan for others in need of his help. His eyes twitched back and forth on the surface, then finally settled...and he grinned.

***

The sun was just beginning to rise when Merry finished his story.

“That’s amazing,” said Acacia, eyes still wide with awe. “It makes me wish I could have gotten to know Frodo and Pippin better, and met Sam. I think I would have liked them.”

“And they would love you, I know,” Merry responded with a warm grin.

“So you really got your adventure,” she mused. “I’m very proud of you.” She kissed his cheek and he blushed, despite himself. “But there’s one part you left out.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

She smiled suggestively. “What about those dozen kids?”

Merry laughed. “No, I decided to leave that up to Sam. At the rate he’s going, he’ll be there before the year’s out.” This got them both laughing hysterically as they conjured up all sorts of inappropriate mental pictures.

But their merriment was cut short as Acacia heard the tramp of children running down the stairs.

“Quick, behind the tree,” Acacia told Merry.

Before he obeyed, he took her hand and kissed it tenderly, very gentlehobbit-like. “I shall miss you, Acey, when I go. I always have.” He didn’t know how long he’d be there, but he knew his time was limited.

Acacia smiled. “Me, too, Merry. Me, too.”

They heard the children running across the kitchen linoleum. Merry dove out of sight just before they rushed into the room. They all grabbed their stocking, which had already been filled by their parents the night before, after they went to bed, and plopped on the couch to see what they got. Rowan and his wife strolled into the room as Acacia pretended to be just waking up.

Her son settled in to watch the kids as his wife went to make the coffee. Acacia realized with a start that the kids would soon surround the tree and Merry would be trapped. She looked behind it, where she’d seen him go, but he was gone. She looked around, thinking he might have snuck out, but there was no sign of him. She smiled sadly. ‘He’s gone,’ she thought, ‘I’ll probably never see him again, but at least I got to see him one last time.’ As she began to reflect on all that she’d heard in the past several hours, a voice broke through her thoughts. It was her son’s.

“Hey. Where’s Willow?”

***

But at that moment, in a land far removed from America and everything in it, the little girl called Willow found herself waking up under a tree of the same name. As she looked in wonder at the forest around her, she heard a deep voice echo through the trees.

“Hey dol! Merry dol! Ring a dong dillo! Ring a dong! Hop along! Fal lal the willow!”  



End file.
